


The Lullaby of the Moon

by Fable



Series: Merlin [21]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ealdor, First Time, M/M, lullaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fable/pseuds/Fable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin drags Arthur, injured in a brawl with the Saxons, to Ealdor. There, in Hunith’s small bedroom, he tends to Arthur’s wounds and they finally succumb to the unseen force that’s been pushing them together for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lullaby of the Moon

I heard the arrow before I felt it—its unmistakable song as the air divided. I twisted to the left as the arrow pierced the chainmail on my right flank. The pain screamed up my spine before settling in my head with a searing ferocity.

My arms flung skyward, my legs buckled, and as I hit the forest floor, the last thing my blurred vision saw was Merlin pinned amongst the autumn leaves by two Saxons.

***

One eye prised open but a slit of dazzling light invaded my head so I shut it again. Every instinct in me shouted move. With my eyes still closed, I patted down my cold chainmail vest then walked my fingers towards where I knew the arrow had pierced my body. Hot and sticky blood coated my palms but no wooden shaft. I heaved a sigh, opened my eyes, and then lurched back. Merlin’s smiling face filled my vision.

I groaned. ‘What happened?’

‘The usual—you took an arrow and I saved your royal ass.’

Merlin was not like any servant I’d ever known. I was the King of Camelot yet he treated me like a mate from the Tavern… sometimes, less so. He never listened to orders and rarely performed his duties well. Nevertheless, I needed him by my side; he was a light in the dark, and filled all my recent memories.

I lifted my head and stared into his blue eyes. ‘Where are the Saxons?’

‘I got rid of them,’ he said heaving me into a sitting position.

‘You?’ My arms fell limply across my lap, my head felt like a squashed tomato, and my mouth like one of Merlin’s socks.

‘Yes.’ Making odd snorting sounds, he pulled me to my feet, draped my arm around his shoulder, and pushed my hand into his. He had bony fingers that felt like they’d snap in a strong grip. My mind flashed up an image of Merlin’s thin hands pinned tightly behind his back, and as he gazed at me with his doe-eyed expression, he took a step into my space. He smelt of candle wax and polish as he leaned in…

I coughed and blinked the vision away. ‘How long have I been out?’

Merlin hoisted me into a more comfortable position. ‘A few hours.’

‘A few hours! Just great. Where are we?’

‘In a forest.’

‘A forest?’

‘I don’t know, Arthur, one forest looks like another, and in the middle of the brawl between the Knights and Saxons… we sort of… drifted.’

Oh yes, the Knights. ‘Where are the others?’

I felt Merlin shrug under me. He had an inbuilt ability to be infuriating without doing that much.

‘Ealdor isn’t far from here; I need to tend to that wound.’

‘The horses have bolted?’

‘Yes, Arthur. Don’t they always?’ He was right; our brawls took on a very similar pattern of events—like fighting by numbers. Merlin proceeded to drag me so my feet created two channels through the thick autumnal carpet.

I’d taken many an arrow over the years and I knew that the deepening pain, the sweating and the disgusting odour, meant infection. My knees dropped and I leaned heavily on Merlin’s thin frame. ‘Merlin…the wound…it’s infected.’

‘I know, Sire.’ He lowered me to the ground and tugged off my gardbrace and chainmail. ‘No use to you now and the weight is just slowing us down.’

I nodded in agreement and stuck one finger in the air as if I had a very important point to make. ‘Always remove my armour when I'm injured,’ I slurred and then passed out.

***

A chill of cold liquid on exposed skin brought me to my senses. I opened my eyes to see I was stripped to the waist and Merlin, who hadn’t noticed I was awake, concentrating on rubbing a wet cloth in gentle circles over my side and lower abdomen. His dark hair had a mind of its own, standing up in all directions, and my blood smeared his battered tunic. He was singing a low breathless tune—for me, to me.

_‘Fear not of me, the dark and unknown. With me at your shoulder, you are not alone. I shall keep you, and guard you at night. Fear not of me, for I am the light. Lay thee down and rest, for you are the blessed. Lay thee down and rest, for it’s me who’s blessed.’_

It caught my breath and stroked my heart. ‘Merlin,’ I whispered.

He looked up and his face lit with a bright smile. ‘Arthur.’

‘That song, I’ve heard you sing it before.’

‘ _The Lullaby of the Moon_ , a lilt for children scared of the dark. My mother used to sing it to me.’ He reddened before facing away from me.

I hoisted myself onto my elbows and squinted at my surroundings. We were in a modest but clean room. Under a window, which let in a dappled light that played shadows on the opposite wall, was my bed. An upturned crate impersonating a bedside table and a small wooden chair were the only other pieces of furniture. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘Nearly a full day.’

‘Where are we?’

‘In Ealdor, this is my mother’s house.’ He glanced around the room. ‘This is her bedroom.’

On cue, Hunith walked in. ‘Sire,’ she said and bobbed a low courtesy.

I always thought that Merlin had a look of his mother, the dark hair, the thoughtful eyes, and kind face. ‘Hunith. Thank you for your hospitality.’

She shook her head and smiled at me. ‘You are always welcome here, My Lord.’ Turning to Merlin she said, ‘I’m making stew, I’ll bring it in when it’s finished.’

Merlin rose from the bed and hugged his mother. ‘What would I do without you?’

Hunith patted her son’s back then I saw her whisper something into his ear, I couldn't make out the words but Merlin grinned at her in return.

He returned to my side and plonked himself at my feet.

‘You dragged an unconscious man to Ealdor?’ I said. Merlin never ceased to amaze me, one day he'd have his tunic on back to front and not know his arse from his elbow, the next, he’s saving me and carrying out the duties of a physician.

‘Yes. I'm stronger than I look.’

‘You can say that again.’

‘I'm stronger—’

I kicked him.

He laughed. ‘Lie down, Arthur; I need to re-bandage the wound.’

The wound was painless, whatever Merlin had done had worked, but I obliged, dropping my head with a soft thud onto the pillow. I followed him with my eyes as he reached onto the floor for a bowl of what looked, and smelled, like horse shit. ‘Yuk, what is that?’

‘Ancient mud from the Flatlands of the Never.’

‘Oh. I've never heard of the Flatlands of the Never.'

Merlin smiled at me and his lips trembled as if trying to stave off laughter.

‘You're joking!’

‘Of course, Arthur, it’s an unguent of herbs. I'll use it on your wound before I bandage it.’

I kicked him, again.

Merlin’s long fingers applied the paste onto my side, working in long slippery circles to ease it into the skin. His touch was firm, capable, and delicate, and his fingers applied just the right amount of pressure as they continued across my tender abdomen. Why was I thinking about Merlin’s touch? And, why the fuck was my mind now conjuring up images of Merlin's hands, my bare backside, and, oddly, a forest clearing.

‘Well, it smells like horse shit!’ I laughed in an attempt to cover up the rebel thoughts.

Merlin looked up and stared at me. I responded to his magnetic gaze instantly—my heart increased its beat, my throat dried, and my breathing laboured. Then he slipped one finger under the waistband of my breeches, and trailed it along the length.

Of course, he had undressed me countless times but this felt different, a pleasant quiver shuddered its way up my spine and made my fingers and toes vibrate. I know Merlin felt the vibration because he froze, hardly breathing, with his mouth slack, and blue eyes fixed on me, he waited. For what?

Who was I kidding I knew what. We both knew. It was unwritten, unsaid, and as silent as smoke rising; the unseen force pushing us together was our constant companion.

I nodded. The small free-willed movement told Merlin all he needed to know and confirmed what I’d tried to push to the back of my mind for many years—I wanted him.

It wasn't the wish for a quickie with an energetic squire, or a roll in the hay with a well-built stable boy, or the grunt of satisfaction found behind the hangings in the Great Hall with a long-limbed maid. This was different, I wanted him, I needed him, and it was primal, desired and… just plain right. It was weird that it was today in the bedroom of his mother with a hole in my side, but here it was and I didn't need, or want, to question it.

Wordlessly Merlin undid the laces on my breeches, and as I lifted my hips so he could tug them down, he pulled a long, deep, and noisy breath. He had, of course, seen me naked, but he had never seen me like this—hard, wanting, and eager. His gaze excited me more. On the one hand, the friend in me wanted to savour the moment, prolong the excitement, but the devil in me wanted to fuck him senseless until those wonderful lips howled my name.

Sitting up, I swept a hand across my body. ‘I seem to be at an advantage, Merlin.’

He didn't reply or move, he just focused on me with eyes like forest pools, calm on the surface but God only knows what was going on underneath. ‘Clothes, Merlin.’

His mouth flapped as I swung my legs off the bed, slipped a hand around his neck, and absent-mindedly stroked the back of his ear. He shivered under me. ‘Do you want this?’ I breathed. ‘You've got to want this.’

‘More than anything.’

I don't believe he could've managed any more words. ‘Then, clothes,’ I repeated softly.

Like a man released, he jumped up, wrenched off his neckerchief and tunic and chucked them across the room, yanked off his boots, socks, and breeches, and allowed them to pool at his feet. His pale skin, almost translucent in the sunlight, was smooth and flawless like polished moonstone.

Gwaine once crudely said that the size and shape of a man’s foot was in direct correlation to his cock. He was right—Merlin’s feet were long, slender, and straight.

‘I've not… you know… before.’

That didn't surprise me. Merlin was constantly at my side, when he wasn't by my side, he was by Gaius’, and I presumed he hadn’t shagged Gaius.

Standing, I placed a hand on his shoulder, propelled him back, and pinned him against the wall that shook with the force. His cheeks coloured, his lips parted, and his breath quickened. Using two tingly fingers, I lifted his chin to expose his neck and kissed a hot demanding line from ear to ear. Always concealed behind tatty neckerchiefs this part of Merlin’s body fascinated me. Why did he cover it up when it was so delightful? He slumped, bent his neck to the side to allow me more access, and purred like a contented cat. ‘You like this?’ I murmured into the delicious hollow behind his collarbone.

‘More than you could ever know.’ Merlin’s hands had been limp by his side but as I sucked little welts along his shoulder, he slid them around my waist, trailed them down my backside, and hooked them under the crease at the top of my thigh. As he lifted, it generated a pleasurable skin on skin friction. I slapped my hands against the wall and our faces aligned. His eyes were wide, he tightened his grip, and I leaned in and kissed him.

His lips were moist, soft, and receptive. Merlin felt wide-open under me, as if whatever I wanted, he would give me. Somehow, I’d always known that.

‘You know that horse shit?’ I whispered into his mouth.

He nodded.

‘I can think of a wonderfully inventive use for it.’

His eyes flashed. ‘Before that—' He disappeared from view, generating puffs of plaster dust as he slid down the wall. He knelt in front of me.

I considered the black mop of hair that was tickling my lower stomach. ‘Merlin, I'm liking this.'

‘I thought you might,’ he said and laughed a naughty chuckle that sounded like an eighty-year-old man.

There was really _really_ nothing better than having my cock in Merlin’s warm mouth, and the sound’s he made as he moved in the confined space were utterly gratifying.

I dug my fingernails into the mortar walls and dropped my head. ‘Merlin… if you don't…’ He moved his hands from gripping my thighs to tracing the outline of my backside, and then trailed one finger after another in between the cheeks. ‘Oh God… Merlin, you'll have to stop.’ My plea only succeeded in him humming _The Lullaby of the Moon_ , which vibrated with a mouthwatering deliciousness. Fighting an urge to submit, I wound my fingers through his hair and unceremoniously yanked him up to face me. He grinned and kissed me, he tasted of both of us which was horny and freaky in equal measures.

With my face reddened and a thin line of sweat starting to form on my brow, I pushed him onto the bed so he lay spread-eagled on his front. I fell next to him. ‘Where did you learn to do that if you’ve never fucked?’

‘That’s just it, I’ve never fucked, but I have done, um, other things.’

‘So where did you learn to,’ I glanced down my body, ‘do other things.’

‘Gwaine.’

‘Gwaine, I might have known. So, you've gone down on him?’ I felt a surprising pang of jealousy. I wanted Merlin to be mine, I wanted to be the first, and I wanted to be his only.

‘And him me. It was a summer’s night, too many spiced wines, skinny-dipping and, um, sucking.’ His ears flushed pink.

‘I missed out on that merrymaking.’

‘Yes, and Percival’s fist-pump party.’

‘Percival’s fist-pump party!’

‘Joking, Arthur.’

‘Where’s that bowl?’ I swept my hand around under the bed and came up with the prize.

‘You know, Arthur, I thought you’d fuck me senseless, pull up your breeches, and move on.’

‘Really? My reputation precedes me eh?’

Merlin grinned. ‘Yep.’

I dipped my hand into the herb paste. ‘Well, don’t get me wrong, I really _really_ wanna fuck you senseless but I also want to um… savour… it.’ Now I sounded like a girl.

‘Arthur.’

‘Yes?’

‘Fuck me senseless, My Lord.’ Merlin rose up onto all fours, gripped the small headboard, and dropped his head.

I throbbed for him and didn't need telling twice. Twisting around, I coated my fingers with the paste. ‘Spread, Merlin.’ Oh, those words were music to my ears.

‘Yes, Sire.’ He spread his long legs as far as the narrow bed would allow.

Merlin almost never used the term Sire or My Lord unless he was in trouble. He knew about my secret appetite for servants so he also knew how much the address would fan my fire. And fanned, it was. I pressed two slippery fingers into him and paused to listen to his awkward breathing. I wish I’d known he’d wanted me as much as I wanted him, we could have been making the most of our time alone years ago.

As I fucked him with my fingers, he squirmed delightfully against me and grunted a few vague words. As he did, I spread his legs further and drove into him. I caught his breath, stopped his body, and for a moment, with no movement and no sound, it was as if time didn't exist.

Then he whimpered, swinging and rotating his hips to find the perfect fit. And oh boy, did we fit. Like a dirty two-piece puzzle. I thrust in further, savouring every squeak from Merlin and surge of pleasure from me. The simple bed creaked and rattled under us as I pushed him forward. He collapsed onto his forearms and buried his head into the pillow.

‘Arthur,’ he said, muffled.

‘Uh.’

‘Ride me hard.’

‘Who'd have known you were so filthy, Merlin.’ I rumbled as I used all the strength in my upper thighs to lunge forward.

He drew in a sharp breath, ‘I've wanted… to fuck you... for a long time.'

‘Wanting. To fuck. The king. Is treason. Merlin.’

‘What… about… wanting to fuck… an arse.’

‘Your arse. More like.’

It had always been a big fantasy of mine to be watched while fucking, so I conjured up all the knights and stood them in a neat ring around the room. Leon was smiling, Gwaine had his hands down his pants, and Percival was making little pumping gestures with his fists. Now I had my attentive audience an overwhelming need to speed things up enveloped me. Tightening my well-coated grip on Merlin’s hips, I readjusted my position, leaned over, and kissed his back. A prickle crept up from every part of my body, which I was desperate to continue forever. But with a startling ferocity, I came, grunting obscenities at the top of the wave.

Merlin cried out, ‘My Lord,’ and it was all over. 

Pulling him into a still-connected embrace, we collapsed onto the shaky bed. He shifted, wrapped his long limbs around my body, kissed my nose, my chin, and then my lips. We lay for a long while, in silence. My head was empty, devoid of thought; instead, I enjoyed the feel of his chest hair on mine, the rhythm of his breath, and the sweet sticky smell of warm paste coated bodies. Then inside my head, I began to sing the lullaby.

‘Merlin?’

‘Um.’

‘The words in the lullaby, what do they mean?’

‘They're words of protection.’

‘You were singing it for me.’

‘Yes. I’ll always protect you, Arthur.’

‘You are funny, Merlin.’

‘Funny ha-ha or funny weird?’

‘Definitely funny weird.’

He shifted further into my space. ‘Thanks.’

I took his hand, guided it down my back, and rested it on my arse. ‘Your turn,’ I whispered.

Without a word, he slid onto me. For such a skinny thing, he was surprisingly heavy, his heart beat in anticipation against my chest, and his excitement grew against my leg.

Then I sensed a presence; years of training had developed a third eye. Hunith had entered the room as quiet as a hushed thought. She stood in the doorframe silent and unmoving; in her hands, she clasped two bowls of stew. I glanced at Merlin; he was staring at his mother, his eyes round and scared.

Sorely aware of her naked sticky son on my chest, I reached for the blanket and pulled it over our lower halves. Hunith moved sideways, just a couple of steps, but it was enough to spur Merlin into babbling a long stream of nonsense. Words like destiny, urge, and itch, tripped over each other as they tumbled out of his mouth.

‘I see you made good use of the herb paste.’ His mother glanced at the empty bowl before placing the stew on the bedside table. ‘I waited until you'd finished. Walls like parchment, remember.’ She left the room.

Merlin dropped his face onto my chest. ‘Well, that was awkward,’ he mumbled and I could feel his lips brushing against my skin. The sensation travelled headlong to my groin and made my hips twitch.

‘We should get dressed and show our faces,’ I said for politeness sake not through wanting to.

‘No chance.’ Merlin sat up, flipped me over, and shoved my upper half off the bed. Now doing a strange half-handstand with my arse in the air, I asked the floorboards, ‘Merlin, is this any way to treat a king?’

He straddled me and said, ‘yes, Sire.’

‘You are definitely funny weird.’ My words puffed up little clouds of dust from the floor.

‘I'll take that as a compliment,’ he said and pushed my legs apart.

It felt fucking marvelous to be full of him, owned by him, to succumb to him. I smiled at the floor. There was no one else that I would allow to pin me face down into the dust and ride me like a broken hobbyhorse. But I'd always let Merlin get away with murder.

The dusty meagre room with its sunny patterned wall and smell of stew remodelled itself into heaven as Merlin hit the right spot every time making my toes curl, my cock jerk, and the blood rush to my head. He was definitely stronger than he looked and every thrust rapped my forehead against the wooden planks like a royal doorknocker. 

Then it all happened. His legs shook either side of me as he shouted a string of strange words into the air. A delightful buzz shot up my spine and a dazzling golden light lit the room for a couple of seconds. The chair danced across the floor and the bed made a loud cracking noise before collapsing onto its side. We tumbled onto the floor in a slimy naked heap.

‘What the hell was that?’

Merlin, lying on my back, panted, ‘What?’

‘The words, the flash, the chair, the bed?’

‘The earth moving?’

I reached over my shoulder and punched him. He slid off, faced me, and stuck out his bottom lip. I kissed it.

***

Half an hour and a wash later, I watched Merlin chat to his mother through the half-opened door and listened to their conversation.

‘Be careful, Merlin.’ Hunith said and ran a hand down her son’s arm.

‘I am, Mother, don’t worry.’ He smiled at her.

‘I just don't want you to get hurt.’

Merlin held his arms out wide. ‘Do I look hurt?’

‘No, you looked fucked.’

‘Oh. My. God. Mother!’

She sighed, ‘You know what I mean, Merlin.’

He pulled her into an embrace. ‘I do know what you mean and I won’t get hurt.’ Then he said mischievously, ‘He is handsome, and kingly, in many departments.’

His mother stepped back and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. ‘Yes, I’ve seen the king’s _kingly_ remember.’

Merlin grinned so wide I thought his face would crack. ‘What a treat for you.’

‘Merlin!’

***

On two borrowed horses and with the promise of returning with a new bed, we made our way out of Ealdor.

Wincing as the jiggle of the horse aggravated the wound that I’d forgotten about, I trotted up to Merlin. ‘Earlier, what did your mother whisper in your ear?’

He reined in his mare and looked at me. ‘That’s for me to know.’

I shook my head. ‘Yes, yes, of course, none of my business.’ As king, I presumed that I was privy to everything.

He laughed. ‘Okay, she said, don’t rock the bed too much, it’ll break.’

‘She never did!’

‘She did.’

‘You’re lying.’

He spurred his horse and rode off.

I called after him, ‘Lying to a king is treason, Merlin.’

‘I thought fucking a king was treason,’ he called back.

Catching up, I grabbed his arm and brought him to a halt. ‘Wanna commit treason, Merlin?’

‘Oh yes, My Lord,’ he replied.

***

‘Where have you been, Merlin, I've been worried.’ Gaius asked as he fiddled with the myriad of jars on his table.

‘Arthur was injured so I took him to Ealdor to tend to his wound.’

Gaius looked up from his sorting. ‘Right, I see.’

‘Gaius?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you have anything in those potions for a sore arse?’

‘From riding?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Not from riding?’

‘No. From been ridden.’

‘Ridden?’

‘Yes.’

‘Merlin!’ Gaius’ eyebrows hit his hairline before he sighed and handed Merlin a small clay dish with purple goo in it. ‘Apply twice a day.’

Merlin took it and flashed a look at his mentor. ‘I’ll get Arthur to do it.’

‘Merlin! I don’t want to know the sordid details. Now shoo out of my chambers before I give you a tightening ointment.’

‘Gaius!’

 


End file.
